Page 69
Hurt.
I wanted to hurt myself, and I hated that thought. I didn’t like it when my mind went to such a dark, depressing place.
“Addie,” Ducky signed, but then moved his hands to his lap. He didn’t know what to say, but that was good. I wouldn’t know how to respond.
“I think I need to be alone for a moment.”
“Addie, please, I need for you to know...”
“Please, Ducky. I just need to be alone.” I met his eyes, so familiar and sincere, before placing my head in my hands. I wanted to wallow in my self-pity and self-hatred. I was so fucked up, I knew that. I just...I just needed someone, and I had no one.
Declan was silent for only a moment before he nodded slowly. As he scrambled to his feet, I watched, almost mesmerized, as he wiped soot and debris from his clothing.
It hurt to look at him.
God, did it hurt.
As Declan left, Calax came over. Without a word, he sat down beside me.
“I don’t want to talk,” I whispered.
He grunted. “I know.”
And we sat.
* * *
We satfor over an hour in companionable silence. Anytime someone came near us, Calax would glare at them until they scurried away. I had never been more appreciative of his asshole-ish-ness than I was at that moment.
Only Tamson dared to venture closer to me, and that was to only give me a can of beans he’d found and a bottle of water. I eyed the items with distaste.
I didn’t deserve to eat. I deserved to waste away like the scum I was.
“Baby,” Calax murmured, “I hate it when you think that way.”
“I’m a horrible person,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut in a desperate attempt to will the tears away. “How can you even look at me? I disgust myself.”
“Don’t say that.” His hand clamped down on my good knee. “You’re strong and brave and a fighter. I am so lucky I have gotten to know you.”
“How can you say that? Declan’s your friend, and it’s because of me that he’s deaf.” Saying the words aloud made them all too real.
“Did you know, that whenever Declan would talk about the incident that took his hearing, he never mentioned it as the worst thing that happened to him?” Calax asked. I bit my lip but didn’t reply. No, I didn’t know that.
And I doubted that to be true. He had lost his hearing - his ability to motherfucking hear - and Calax dared to say that wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to him?
“When he talks about that day, he refers to it as the day he lost his best friend.” Though his voice was gruff, I didn’t think Calax was capable of anything else, he kept it gentle. His hand squeezed my knee in reassurance. “Of course, I didn’t know he was talking about you, and I didn’t know this mysterious friend was even still alive, but it was you that he talked about. He really...” He coughed, as if the words had gotten stuck in his throat. “He really loved you. Loves you.”
I snorted. “He hates me.”
Declan’s hostility at our first meeting made perfect sense now. I’m surprised that he hadn’t straight up stabbed me. I would’ve.
“He never hated you. He was heartbroken.” Calax removed his hand from my knee, and I immediately missed its warmth. His hand grabbed mine.
“That was actually one of the reasons why he broke up with his last girlfriend. Because of you.”
“Because of me?”
“Because he wouldn’t stop talking about you. He loved you.”
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